Goldfish
by thats.bofinado
Summary: Roll looks at Wok to his right, and Jazz to his left, before giving Two-Ton a toothy grin. "My grandpa's goldfish," all three of them answer at once. When you ask one of them a question, you ask all three. That's just the way it is with Jazz, Wok, and Roll. (Sandlot 3)


**Summary: Roll looks at Wok to his right, and Jazz to his left, before giving Two-Ton a toothy grin. "My grandpa's goldfish," all three of them answer at once. When you ask one of them a question, you ask all three. That's just the way it is with Jazz, Wok, and Roll.**

"Who's your best friend?" Two-Ton asks in the treehouse one night. They're playing truth or dare, and he's either bored or trying to stir up trouble like usual.  
Roll looks at Wok to his right, and Jazz to his left, before giving Two-Ton a toothy grin. "My grandpa's goldfish," all three of them answer at once. When you ask one of them a question, you ask all three. That's just the way it is with Jazz, Wok, and Roll.

**ABC**

It's a twist of fate that they all move into the Valley on the first day of junior high, in houses right next to each other. Jazz sets down the cardboard box on her lawn to look at the identical situation on the houses to her right and left. There's a Spanish guy with an afro by one house, and a taller Asian one by the other. Their eyes meet hers, and the two of them run over to meet on her lawn.  
"Are you guys new here too?" They all ask at the same time. Jazz bursts into laughter, Asian Guy grins, and Afro raises his eyebrows.  
"Jasmine Abadi," the Arabian girl introduces.  
"Matt Wakamoto." Asian Guy is still grinning.  
"Rolando Alvarez," Afro says.  
"Jazz, Wok, and Roll." Jazz muses out loud.  
"Like some sort of-" Wok starts.  
"Weird musical group," Roll finishes, eyes wide.  
Jazz is more than surprised. Those were her thoughts exactly. "That's cool. I like music," is all that comes out.  
She takes in Wok's mitt and baseball, Roll's bat, and finally her Yankees jersey and hat. "I saw a Sandlot when we were on our way here," Roll offers, as if he read her mind.  
"You boys have bikes?" Jazz asks. Somehow she isn't as surprised as she was a couple moments ago.  
"I think I know the way," Wok finishes. Jazz jumps on her bike, and they follow him, almost as if everything they do is scripted out for them. She has to admit, it's pretty cool.

**ABC**

When they get to the field, there are six boys playing a game. Even though they have a small amount of people, Jazz can't help but admire how easy the game seems. No one's keeping score. No one's fighting. Just the game, constant and never ending. "Like a dream," Jazz says, and she barely notices that Wok and Roll are saying the same thing.  
There's a big kid up at bat. "Right down the middle, Timber!" He shouts.  
"Timber, like woodchucks and trees?" Roll wonders.  
The pitcher - a redhead - throws a ball low and outside. The batter swings, and there's a cracking sound as the ball soars into the air. Far into the air, right towards the trio. Jazz jumps up to catch it, and it falls into her glove. "You guys looking for this?" Wok calls out.  
"Yeah!" A blonde kid at shortstop yells. "Hey, there's three of you!"  
"And?" They chorus.  
"We need three more for a team," Shortstop explains. "You play?"  
Jazz throws the ball to him in answer. It lands perfectly in his glove.  
"Now we got a full team, guys!" The catcher cheers. "Come on over here."  
They all meet up by the pitcher's mound. Catcher pulls his mask onto his head. "I'm DP, that's Timber, Wings, Two-Ton, Q, and Ryan." He lazily points to each of the boys, who wave when their names are called.  
"Wok, Roll, and Jazz," Wok explains.  
"Welcome to the team," Timber says. Ryan nods, a happy grin on his face.

**ABC**

Jazz meets Squints Palledorous not much later.  
"You three are new to town, right?" He asks, polishing his glasses.  
"Yeah," they all answer, and it doesn't faze Squints in the slightest.  
"Cool. You picked the right baseball team." He holds out his hand. "Squints Palledorous, baseball commissioner."  
"You run the pharmacy down the road, right?" Jazz realizes.  
"Yeah." Squints grins, pressing a card in her hand. She looks down. 'Squints Pharmacy.' It's bright orange.  
Bright orange works for her. She smiles brightly. Wok and Roll do the same.

**ABC**

"Is it possible to fail sixth grade?" Wok asks miserably.  
"I don't think so," Roll says.  
"You're thinking? Don't hurt yourself," Jazz jokes.  
They're sitting on the grass at recess, waiting for their turn to bat. Wings is at home plate, bat tilted above his shoulder. He smashes his bat into the ball, and it goes flying. "Go Wings!" The trio cheer together. Heads turn, but they don't pay the gawkers any mind, instead watching as Wings slides into third base.  
"Because you can't help me hide my tests from my mom forever," Wok continues. "She is going to go bonkers when she finds out I'm bad at math."  
Roll looks at him out of the corner of his eye. "Why, is math her favorite subject or something?"  
"She's an accountant!" Wok almost yells. "Math is her life." He groans. "She's going to be so mad..."  
Jazz finally whacks him on the head with her wrist. "You got an 89 on your math quiz! Your first B ever! Calm yourself." She's not actually irritated, because she's smiling.  
Wok childishly sticks his tongue out at her before standing up to go and bat after Timber hits a double. Roll shakes his head, laughing.  
Boys.

**ABC**

"Benny!" Q, DP, Wings, Timber, and Two-Ton shout. Ryan follows them over to Benny 'The Jet' Rodriguez. Jazz's jaw drops.  
"Come on, Jazz!" Wok and Roll yell. When did they get over there? Jazz just stares.  
Benny Rodriguez... in front of her... in real life...  
She blanches. "Oh my god..."  
Benny grins. "Come on over, kid." Her legs gain feeling and she runs over to where they're all standing on the pitcher's mound.  
She takes in a deep breath. "Hi."  
"She's a fan," Wok and Roll chorus. Jazz bonks their heads together. "Jazz! Ow!"  
Benny laughs, holding out his hand. "Benny Rodriguez."  
She shakes it.  
"Benny used to play on the Sandlot, too," DP explains.  
"Squints coaches, Benny comes when he can," Timber continues.  
"That's cool." Jazz grins. "Let's play."

**ABC**

It's Christmas in the Valley, and snow covers everything in sight like a fuzzy blanket. The team is in the Sandlot, snow jackets scattered everywhere. Jazz, Wok, and Roll are perched behind a tall snow fort in left field. "TEAMERS!" DP yells from home plate, which isn't remotely recognizable anymore.  
"Your face is a teamer!" The trio shout back.  
"I'm just saying it's unfair, is all," DP continues, handing a snowball to Q. "You three are like... mind triplets."  
"Mind triplets?" Jazz asks, now interested.  
"I didn't know that-" Roll starts.  
"-was a thing," Wok ends, crouching behind their snow fort.  
"It is kind of weird how you always say stuff in unison," Wings says from first base. Him and Timber are having a contest to see who can build the bigger snowman.  
"We're just special and you're jealous!" Jazz cries, throwing a snowball in a perfect spiral towards his unprotected head.  
Wings freezes, and Jazz can see the snow dripping down his neck. "You are a DEAD WOMAN, Jasmine Abadi!" Wings yells.  
Squeaking, Jazz dives behind Roll. "Protect me, valiant knights!"  
"At your service, Princess Jasmine," Wok and Roll say, grinning, before pouncing on her and shoving as much snow as they can down the back of her shirt.  
"Traitors!" The Arabian girl gasps, rolling away from them.  
When she comes home late that night, soaking wet, a bright grin on her face, a boy on each arm, her mother shakes her head.  
Her father... her father is a different story.

**ABC**

Spring rolls around, and with it comes allergies. Roll is confined to bed, and without him, Jazz feels slightly incomplete. Whenever she comes up with a funny joke, she turns to her left, and her eyes pass over the empty space where he would be to meet Wok's, who was probably thinking the same thing.  
"He's like an arm or something," Wok voices during lunch as they all sit at a picnic table.  
"I feel like I can't move my fingers," Jazz agrees.  
The cranky Spanish teacher walks by, muttering something incomprehensible, her arms all over. The entire team looks to the space in between Wok and Jazz for Roll's translation. Roll isn't there to give one.  
"You look terrible," DP notices, inspecting Wok and Jazz.  
"It's not like he died," Two-Ton says, but Jazz knows he gets it.  
Wok shrugs. "It's just funny."  
Funny is one way to put life without Roll.

**ABC**

It's a warm Tuesday walk to school when Roll starts humming. Jazz recognizes the tune immediately, and almost laughs. "Your mom been listening to Louis Armstrong again?"  
Roll crosses his arms. "I like La Vie En Rose."  
"La Vinie What?" Wok asks.  
Jazz slaps him. "Only the greatest jazz song ever."  
She purposefully ignores their chorused, "Of course."  
"Out of all the jazz songs..." Roll shakes his head.  
Jazz stops mid-step. "You think I like La Vie En Rose because my name is Jazz?"  
"Pretty much," Wok and Roll laugh.  
She rolls her eyes, slapping them both. "You're terrible, both of you."  
"You love us!"  
"Maybe."

**ABC**

Her father is a strange person, Jazz decides one night. Sometimes he's Superman, carrying her on his shoulders like a trophy he can't wait to show off to everyone. Sometimes he's a lunatic, trapping her in the house she wants to escape so much.  
Tonight he's a lunatic. A bottle ominously rolls around on the wooden floor. Jazz hopes her mom got out in time.  
He presses her up against the wall, his arms nearly strangling her. "It's your fault," he says, and then something incomprehensible. Jazz has never been more terrified in her life.  
"Let me go!" She cries. The slap stings on her cheek, and her jaw hangs open. He's never hurt her before.  
There's a speck of humanity in his eyes. Maybe he regrets it. Maybe he'll say sorry and stop yelling all the time. But it's gone in an instant. "You live in my house," he hisses. "You obey ME."  
Later on, Jazz feels her jaw. It doesn't feel broken, but it hurts. She sits pressed against the door, breathing heavy, trying not to cry. She's failing.  
There's a bruise on her shoulder from the grip he had on her, and the handprint on her cheek is becoming more prominent. Hopefully if she ices her jaw it won't swell. Her hips hurt. Her body hurts. Her head hurts. Her heart, too.  
Lucky for her, the next day is a Saturday. No nosy teachers asking questions.

**ABC**

Nosy Wok and Roll is worse than nosy teachers.  
"Sick?" Wok and Roll chorus, sharing a look. "Are you sure, Mrs. Abadi?"  
"Quite." Her mom looks almost regretful as she ushers the boys outside. "Maybe you can stop by tomorrow." Jazz watches from her window, a hole in her stomach. When they turn the corner, she draws the blinds.  
Her mom opens the bedroom door. "I miss them already," Jazz confesses.  
"They're boys," her mom says. "Where are your girl friends?"  
Jazz sits very still, holding the ice to her chin. "Can I rest for a bit?" She asks.  
Her father has been on the couch downstairs ever since she woke up.

**ABC**

She's back to school on Monday. The bruises are mostly gone. Her jaw is at a dull thud. "Welcome back," Q greets.  
"We missed you over the weekend," DP says.  
Wok and Roll grab her and bring her into a tight hug. She relaxes, laughing. Friday is behind her. "Hello to you too, boys."  
"I'm hungry!" Two-Ton announces. "Does anyone have any food?"  
"You're the only one who sneaks in food, Two-Ton," Timber says, rolling his eyes.  
"He can't ever go too long without it," Wok starts.  
"He's fat," Roll and Jazz finish.  
"That's it!" Two-Ton slams his books down on the desk. The home room teacher looks up from her desk. "You want some? Well now you get some! Get over here!"  
Jazz takes off.

**ABC**

It's a miracle they avoid meeting EJ Needman until school is nearly out. He's reclining against the fence at recess, tripping everyone who walks by like the class A jerk he is.  
He makes the mistake of trying to trip Jazz. In an instant, Wok and Roll are in his face. "You're supposed to say I'm Sorry," they chorus. Wings takes her hand to help her out as the team gathers around EJ.  
"Whoa, didn't know she was the queen of you loservillers." EJ raises his hands.  
Jazz tugs on their shirts. "Ignore him. He's just jealous because he didn't have cupcakes for lunch."  
"Neither did we," Timber whispers, looking a little weirded out.  
"So?" Wok and Roll grin as they speak. "He didn't."  
Timber lets it go. EJ is already gone.

**ABC**

Her dad is waiting when she gets home. "I heard you got into a fight at school," he says.  
"A fight?" She asks, confused. Two-Ton, she remembers, had been chasing them again. Oh. "That wasn't-"  
"Don't lie to me!" He yells, swiping a bottle off the table. She winces. "I can tell you're lying to me."  
A half hour later, Wok and Roll knock on the door. Jazz dives behind a couch as her mom answers. "Is Jazz okay? She was supposed to meet us at the Sandlot," they say in some arrangement or another. It all blends. Tears slide down her face.  
"She fell down the steps, hurt her wrist," her mom excuses. Jazz stays still. They leave.  
"Sandlot?" Her mom asks, furious. "I thought you were at dance?"  
Jazz wants to shrink into the wall and never come out.  
"You are not to... fraternize with boys," her mom says.  
She doesn't listen.

**ABC**

Summer comes. Jazz is excited. Baseball, all day every day.  
Roll's sister has been covering for her for about a week now. Clara Alvarez is a year older than her, very pretty, and very nice. She has a smile like gold.  
Then Timber has to go and hit a kid on a bike. He skids.  
They all gather around him. Two-Ton is all for kicking him where the sun don't shine, but Q, the voice of reason, stops him.  
His name is Tommy Santorelli, and he's a cocky sonuva-  
"Back away kids!" Uncle Chops yells. "Clear out!"  
Jazz moves to make room. He inspects the bruise before turning to look at her. "Would you like to do the honors?" He asks.  
Jazz jumps, startled. "Is he dead?"  
Uncle Chops sighs, pointedly pinching his nose and opening his mouth. Jazz lets out a scream before jumping behind Wok and Roll. "Don't make me!" She cries. "Eewwww!"  
"If you say so," Uncle Chops mutters. "He's not that bad looking."  
"Uncle Chops!" Jazz shrieks.

**ABC**

"Benny!" Jazz yells as soon as she sees him, running to give the Dodgers player a hug. The rest of the kids crowd around him as Benny starts giving directions. "Now, I want you all to listen when I talk, eh?"  
Jazz feels a tug on her sleeve. "New kid's here," Wok and Roll say. Sure enough, Tommy Santorelli is looking around at the Sandlot like he never saw anything like it.  
"Listen," she half-teases, half-reprimands. They roll their eyes, nudging her with their shoulders.  
She walks to second base, and Wok and Roll go to first and third. Benny starts hitting grounders. Squints is talking to the new kid.  
"Go Wings!" Jazz cheers as the blonde haired speed demon races past her to catch a ball. Benny hits another ball.  
"Q, pick up the ball!" Two-Ton yells.  
"I'm measuring wind speed velocity against the angle of the descent of the ball," Q explains. Jazz feels her head start to hurt.  
"Well, I'm going to descend upon your head if you don't pick up the ball and throw it in," Two-Ton threatens.  
Jazz laughs, sharing a look with Wok and Roll. "Don't break him, Two-Ton!"

**ABC**

The kid can HIT.  
Jazz watches in awe. She sits on the floor, Wok and Roll in chairs above her, head resting against their legs. "I think his swing is better than Hank Aaron's," Wings admits.  
"And Santa takes it to the North Pole!"  
"Not to mention his ego is bigger than Two-Ton," Jazz says.  
"And Two-Ton's really big," Wok whispers.  
"More like fat," Roll jokes.  
Two-Ton doesn't even complain, staring in awe at Santorelli's latest homer.  
"Okay, now a little more heat," Benny says.  
"Please hit this," DP begs.  
"I got it, I'm the Santa." Tommy shrugs.  
"He needs to play on our team," Timber says.  
"Yeah," everyone else echoes slowly.  
"Hey, kid, good pick. Your name is Ryan, right? What do you say?"

**ABC**

They all run up behind the bush, and Two-Ton groans. "Great! Now we have to wait another two hours to talk to him!"  
"Why do we need this kid anyways?" Wings asks.  
"With him, we could have a real team!" Wok says.  
"And maybe win the All City championship!" Roll grins.  
"And shove it in EJ's face!" Jazz pumps her fist into the air.  
"Who cares about those buttfaces anyways?" Wings rolled his eyes.  
"I care about kicking those buttfaces' butts," Two-Ton said with some difficulty.  
"He wasn't that bofinado," Wings argued.  
"I did some calculations," Q cut in, "And at the risk of sounding like a dweeb... if you don't count the pitch he didn't swing at, Tommy's batting average is... a thousand." It was quiet for a moment after that.  
"You are L-7 weenies," DP jokes, and Jazz lets out a laugh. Ryan's shoulders shake from beside her.  
"So, around the back like usual?" Timber asks.  
"Around the back," Jazz, Wok, and Roll say in unison, like usual.

**ABC**

"See you tomorrow, Jazz?" Wok asks as they go by their house.  
"See you tomorrow." Jazz grins and waves, running up her walkway.  
As soon as she walks inside, she knows something is wrong. Her parents are both standing right by the stairs, hands on their hips, glares on their faces. "You're home late," her dad hisses.  
"What?" She asks softly, instantly afraid. She's not fully healed from last time, when his boss had a go at him.  
"Miss Alvarez said you'd be home by six," her mom says. "You were with those boys again, weren't you?"  
"I'm s-sorry," she stutters, backing up against a wall.  
"Why can't you be like a normal girl?!" Her mom yells. Her dad advances, eyes yellow like a tiger's.  
Jazz shuts her eyes as the blows rain down.  
No tears fall. She wishes to cry more than anything else.

**ABC**

Hours later, she finds herself in her room with a, 'I hope you learned your lesson!'  
A shuddering breath escapes her. Her whole body hurts. Everywhere. Burning.  
Her dark eyes roam around the room, looking for something to help her. They focus on the window. Jazz licks her lips. It's time to act.  
She pushes the glass up, and summoning all her courage, kicks open the screen. A hole tears through the net, and Jazz grits her teeth.  
She slides out, legs shaking as she tried to balance on the window ledge. She's never tried this before, and it scares her.  
As if fate is looking out for her, she notices a tree conveniently placed a couple inches away. Sucking in a breath of air that hurts her lungs, she steps onto the branch. It wobbles. She lets go.  
Somehow she makes it down. Panting, combing her hair back, she runs to Wok's house.

**ABC**

Wok's eyes turn into saucers when he opens the door. "Jazz?" She can imagine why. Her body is covered in bruises.  
Jazz is tired of being strong. Feeling her will crumble, she launches herself into his arms. He catches her as she buries her face I to his shoulder. "Mom, call Mrs. Alvarez," are his next shouted words.  
He gently wraps his arms around her shoulders as she cries into his shoulder. "C'mon, Jazz," he whispers. "Inside."  
Wok leads her inside and towards a couch. Roll arrives soon after. They sit on either side of her as she cries her eyes out, and then some.  
Jazz shudders, taking in deep breaths and letting them out. Finally, she runs out of tears. "Jazz?" Roll asks quietly.  
"I-" she starts.  
"It's okay." Wok smiles a little, tentatively wrapping an arm around her shoulder. "I think our parents are over there giving them a piece of their minds."  
Jazz shook her head, laughing despite herself. Why is she not surprised they know already? "Ridiculous," she mutters.  
"We care about you," Roll adds, hugging her.  
Jazz takes in a breath. "Sorry."  
"S'okay."

**ABC**

The next day, everyone treats her like a glass ball. No one mentions parents, they steer clear of talking about hurting people, and if they touch her, it's lightly. "Would you quit it?" She finally exclaims.  
Wok and Roll share a look. "Quit what?" DP asks innocently.  
She crosses her arms. "I'm not a doll. Or stained glass."  
"You're not pretty?" Two-Ton guesses half-heartedly.  
"Last night... happened," she says quietly. "I don't need you all reminding me while trying your best to not remind me, okay?"  
Wok and Roll grin. "Told you," they chorus.  
Jazz laughs, wrapping her arms around their shoulders. Her boys know her.

**ABC**

Jazz wasn't concerned about sending their smallest player to try and talk to Tommy.  
It's when Ryan doesn't come back after five minutes that Jazz gets worried. "We should go after him," she says.  
"Maybe we shouldn't have sent him in the first place," Timber says guiltily.  
"He was our best chance at getting Tommy on our team." Q sighs.  
"I'm heading into town." Jazz hops on her bike, and the boys follow. They're just in time, too. Jazz slows and stops behind Tommy and Ryan in the middle of an argument.  
"I don't need them to take you on, EJ," Tommy sneers. Ah, EJ. That explains a lot.  
"You'll need anything you can get your hands on... Santa Smelly." EJ does this lame high five thing with his cronies. Jazz rolls her eyes.  
"Look, I'm not going to get into this sophomoric name-calling contest with a kid. Frankly, it's beneath me." Tommy crosses his arms. Jazz looks to her two best friends, and they're thinking what she is: you're the same age, genius.  
EJ bursts out with three lame-ass insults, like usual.  
"That's an intelligent comeback. Got any more, Einstein, or is that all your pea brain can come up with?" Jazz, along with the rest of the team, lets out a loud "OOH!"  
There's a war after that. It ends with EJ far away from Jazz and Tommy joining their team, and she's more than okay with that.

**ABC**

"TIMBER, TAKE IT EASY!" DP explodes, shaking his hand out. Jazz snickers to herself.  
"Don't be such a wimp, DP, get your head in the game!" Two-Ton yells. Jazz can feel a 'Let's-Rag-On-Two-Ton' opportunity coming up.  
"Why don't you come back here and play catcher, that's where you belong anyhow!" DP yells.  
"Just because I'm husky, doesn't mean I have to play catcher," Two-Ton says.  
Perfect opening.  
"Two-Ton," Jazz calls out.  
"Yeah?"  
"You're not husky," Wok says.  
"See?"  
"You're fat," Roll finishes.  
Two-Ton twitches. "That's it!" Jazz is laughing so hard she can't breathe. "The death of Jazz, Wok, and Roll! Right here, right now! Come here!"  
She runs, still laughing gleefully and sounding a lot like a coyote.

**ABC**

She's staying at Wok's until they 'figure everything out.' She uses the top of his bunk bed, and even though she's dangerously close to the revolving fan, she doesn't care. Wok is almost like a dream catcher, warding away all her nightmares.  
The ones that do manage to catch her, he jumps up onto the bunk with her and hugs her tightly until she falls asleep.  
It's especially bad tonight. Instead of her dad, it's Benny, Squints, and then all of the boys, yelling at her. "You're not good enough!" They scream. "You'll never be good enough!"  
She wakes up gasping, in a cold sweat, shoulders shaking. She thinks maybe Wok can sense it, because he climbs up the ladder and gathers her into his lap like usual. "It's okay, Jazz," he whispers, rocking her back and forth. "Love you. I love you."  
She buries her face into his chest. "Love you too," she exhales.

**ABC**

"Jazz! Wok! Come on!" Roll waves to them from the driveway. "We're going to get Tommy and go to Old Man Myrtle's."  
"Coming, coming." Jazz tugs a jacket on, and tosses her dark hair over her shoulder. "Calm down." She jumps on her bike, and they all ride to the Santorelli's.  
DP begins to climb up onto the window, knocking on it. Tommy opens, looking like he just woke up. "We're going to go get that equipment you talked about," he says.  
"In the middle of the night?" Tommy asks, incredulous, "what's open?"  
Wings shines the flashlight on his chin. "Old Man Myrtle's," he says in a creepy voice. Jazz laughs out loud.  
"That sound like trespassing," Tommy said suspiciously.  
"The place is abandoned," Wok explained.  
"Except for the treasure." There's a glint in Roll's eye.  
"Loads of old baseball stuff," Jazz adds.  
"If you want to stay on the right side of the law-"  
They all make chicken noises, and he eventually agrees to come.

**ABC**

The trio walks down the stairs like they're in a cop TV show, flashlights in front of them, swinging side to side. Jazz feels something brush against her back, and they all scream.  
It's Wok and Roll. Jazz lets out a sigh.  
Wok turns back to anxiously look at Jazz and Roll. "You stay here, I'm going to go check over there."  
"I hate this place," Jazz mumbles. Roll touches her shoulder comfortingly.  
Wok is in the corner, shining his flashlight everywhere, when he yelps. "What is it?" Roll asks.  
"BATS!" Wok yells. Jazz can't see his face, but he sounds terrified.  
"Baseball bats?" Jazz and Roll ask.  
"NO!" Wok yells. "BATS BATS!"  
The bats bats appear, and screaming, they all run back upstairs. "Jesus," Jazz whispers.

**ABC**

"RUN!" Jazz hears the scream from the boys upstairs and immediately turns to grab Wok and Roll's arms. She's still shaken up from the Bats Bats.  
Baseball bats rain down from the ceiling. A mitt punches Two-Ton is the face, and Jazz sucks in a deep breath. She's never heard so much screaming.  
Screaming... dark houses...  
"JAZZ!" Wok grabs her arm, pulling her down the stairs and out of the house. She shakes slightly, blinking more often than she should.  
"Jazz, are you okay?" Roll asks.  
She smiles weakly. "Yeah." A pause. "Thanks, Roll."  
Wok and Roll nod together.  
Tommy dives out of the house, a baseball in his hand, another huge one rolling behind him. "That's a big baseball," Q says.  
"Yeah," Jazz adds. Roll squeezes her hand.

**ABC**

They all ride to Tommy's together the next day. He comes out of the house, holding the ball. "Here's the real treasure," he explains.  
"Signed by all the '63 Dodgers!" Wings gasps.  
"We should sell it!" Two-Ton says, a glint in his eye.  
Roll turns to him. "That's loco."  
"No, you loco!" Two-Ton retorts.  
"He's right," Jazz grins. Roll elbows her.  
Tommy is eying the ball. "Think about what you could get for this on eBay."  
Jazz raises her eyebrows as all of them yell, "WHAT BAY?"  
"We can't sell this, guys," Tommy decides. "I think Old Man Myrtle is trying to tell us something!"  
"ONE! TWO! THREE! SANDLOT!"  
They ride to the Sandlot together, joking, spirits high. Jazz grins. She likes that ball.

**ABC**

Tommy's in the middle of giving a speech about teamwork and motivation when Benny shows up. "Benny!" Jazz cries, jumping up to hug him. She hasn't seen him since... that.  
"Easy on me, Jazz, I'm an old man," he jokes, nudging her with a crutch. "Just thought I'd stop by, see how the old Sandlot team was doing. I see you've had a change of heart, Santorelli."  
Tommy looks away. "I seen some things, is all."  
"Well, how about you go centerfield and shag some fly balls... that is, if there's room for more than one coach on this team?" Benny's eyes twinkle.  
"I say that's... bofinado!" Tommy yells. Everyone cheers.  
Wings lets out an indignant, "That's my thing!"

**ABC**

Squints stops by with uniforms later that day, and Jazz happily picks out number five. "Wow, Squints, these are perfect," Tommy says.  
"They look just like you," Timber adds.  
"Fits perfectly!" Jazz laughs, twirling around in hers.  
"You guys are all set for tomorrow," Squints says.  
"SANDLOT!" They all cheer, hands in the middle. Jazz shrugs her jersey off, admiring it.  
"Yellow and red are my new favorite colors!" She cheers.  
"Yellow and red were always my favorite colors!" Wings challenges.  
"Your face is yellow and red," Roll says.  
"You make no sense," DP adds, laughing.  
"Your face makes no sense," Roll, Jazz, and Wok all say. Wings shakes his head back and forth really fast, as if he does it fast enough he'll understand them when they're in their weird moods.

**ABC**

They win their first four games. Jazz has never felt this happy, or at least that she can remember. She walks home with Wok and Roll like always, sitting atop the former's shoulders like a bull rider.  
"We won!" Roll is still in semi-shock.  
"Thirty-two," Jazz counts.  
"We won! We won!"  
"Thirty-four."  
Wok laughs, a big belly laugh, and Jazz almost falls off his shoulders. "I can't wait to see the look on Needman's face when we beat him!" He gives as an explanation.  
"Definitely," Jazz and Roll chorus.  
"With Tommy on our team, we can't lose!" Wok continues. "Maybe if we win we'll save the Sandlot!"  
"Yeah!" Jazz and Roll cheer. Jazz happily rests her arms around Wok's shoulders, lying her cheek against his head. "I can't wait for tomorrow," she whispers.

**ABC**

As it turns out, she definitely can wait for tomorrow.  
There's a loud knock on the window at around midnight. Wok rolls out of bed from below her, and Jazz carefully climbs down the ladder. It's DP, and he looks terrified. Wok slides the window open.  
"What's up, DP?" Wok asks, running a hand through his hair.  
DP shouts something unintelligibly.  
"What?" Jazz asks, leaning forward. Something is obviously wrong because he doesn't even glance at her purple pig pajamas.  
"Tommy joined Needman's team!" DP shout-whispers. "And the fate of the Sandlot depends on tomorrow's game!"  
Jazz's jaw drops. Wok doesn't speak. Outside, the rest of the team shines their flashlights around. They look on the verge of either crying or throwing something. "What?" She whispers.  
"You heard me," DP says resignedly.  
Jazz waits for them to laugh at her, for this to be some sick joke, but no one speaks. "We just wanted to let you know," Wings shouts from below. He sounds depressed. Wings is never depressed.  
This is happening.  
"Thanks," Wok says tiredly, and DP climbs down. Jazz looks at the boy who has become a brother to her. The moonlight's glow on his face seemed to age him ten years.  
"It'll be okay," she promises, wrapping her arms around his middle. He hesitantly hugs her back, burying his face in her hair.  
"I hope," he whispers.  
She hopes, too.

**ABC**

They try to bury their sour moods in Jawbreakers the next day. At least, that's what Two-Ton tries to do. They all watch him.  
"Two-Ton, take it easy on the jawbreakers," Wok says.  
"You're gonna take someone's eye out." Roll wipes some spit off his arm. Jazz winces, kicking one away from her foot.  
"Or break your jaw," Jazz puts in.  
"That's what they're for," Two-Ton says.  
"Shouldn't we be practicing for the game?" Q asks.  
"There's no point," Two-Ton explains. "Come on! I'm going for eight!"  
Jazz shakes her head, turning away. She turns back. She turns away. Wok wraps an arm around her shoulder, and she wearily leans into his chest.  
Ryan is writing furiously on his notepad.

**ABC**

The next day, as Jazz stands on the foul line of the Sandlot, hand on her heart, she thinks.  
The old Sandlot looks especially made up that day, with fresh, white lines and trimmed grass.  
By the dawn's early light...  
She glances up and down the line. Everyone is wearing their yellow and red uniforms. They are not half as proud as they were yesterday. Heads drop, eyes stare meaninglessly into the distance.  
Whose broad stripes and bright stars...  
Wok is in front of her and Roll is behind her. They haven't spoken much today. It's like the apocalypse.  
And the rocket's red glare...  
She shuts her eyes tightly.  
...the home of the brave.  
Be brave, Jazz.

**ABC**

"I got something to say!" Ryan pushes in front of Benny. Jazz's jaw drops. Squints rubs his glasses on his shirt.  
"Did Ryan just..." Wok starts.  
"SPEAK?" Roll and Jazz finish.  
Ryan ignores them, standing tall, and continues. "I been around you guys for a long time and one thing I know is that Benny's right! You guys love baseball. You eat, drink and sleep baseball. But nothing compares to playing it."  
"Damn straight," Jazz agrees.  
"But if we give up now, we'll even say goodbye to the Sandlot forever!" Ryan cries. Two-ton opens his mouth, most likely to protest. "Zip it tubby!" Ryan spits, drawing a line across his mouth. "It's my turn to talk."  
Jazz shakes her head, resting against Wok's knees.  
"Tommy taught us a lot about baseball skills." Ryan says. "Instead of being mad at him, let's show him what he failed to learn from us. How to play the game we love. I don't know about you guys, but I don't wanna lose this field to a bunch of butt-faces!" He looks away to Tommy, and Jazz focuses on his determined eyes.  
"The mouth on that kid," Two-Ton gasps in awe.  
"What he said," Benny says, obviously impressed.

**ABC**

"What is he doing?" Jazz asks, mystified. Tommy flicks his hat off, and continues to walk towards them.  
"You get back here, son!" Needman Sr. yells. Tommy faces them.  
"What do you want?" Two-Ton asks venomously.  
"I want to win!" Tommy says loudly.  
"Yeah, so do we," Wings agrees dryly.  
"Just get lost Tommy," Wok says.  
"Yeah, vamoose," Roll adds. "We don't need you."  
Tommy looks hesitant. "Look, I made a mistake and I'm sorry."  
"That's not going to cut it," Jazz says, crossing her arms.  
"What are you saying?" Benny says over their heads.  
"I made a deal to play for Needman's team because I thought it was my destiny," Tommy admits.  
DP looks suspicious. "This isn't the part where you go off about the Dodgers and the Hall of Fame and your smokin' hot girlfriend, is it?"  
"No," Tommy protests. "This is the part where I throw that all away to do what's right. Play ball with my friends. That is... if you'll have me."  
"We're not going to lose," DP says, and Jazz shakes her head, disappointed somehow.

**ABC**

The game starts. Jazz can barely breathe as Wings hits a pop fly to left center which is promptly caught. There's a tap on her shoulder. She turns, and Tommy is next to her, a regretful look on his face. He beckons her to the back of the dugout.  
"What, having second thoughts on your second thoughts?" She asks bitterly.  
Tommy takes in a deep breath, not meeting her eyes. "You're really mad, aren't you?" It's less of a question and more of a depressed admittance.  
"You abandoned us," she hisses as Ryan hits a double, "without a second thought. You hurt us all. And then you... you waltz back in here and expect everything to be okay?"  
He meets her eyes, and there's real sadness there. "I don't expect everything to be. But it will be. I learned my lesson. I'll prove it."  
She sighs, defeated, and pulls him into a hug. "Go and hit a homer, Santa," she says. There's a little smile on her face, and he does a happy dance that makes it burst into a full-sized one.

**ABC**

"Walk him, son." Jazz's heart stops.  
"What?" EJ gasps.  
"Hey Needman," Benny calls out. "You're gonna put the tie scoring runner in position?"  
"You coach your team and I'll coach mine," Needman yells back. There's an argument on the pitchers mound between him and EJ, ending in, "Two words: Wood. Chipper." Jazz doesn't even want to guess what that means.  
"Come on, Santa, hit a homer!" Wings yells.  
Strike. Strike. Jazz grips Wok and Rolls' arms so hard she thinks they're going to fall off. Their breath is labored, even though they're not batting. "Come on, Tommy," they whisper together.  
"Is that the North Pole out there, Santa?" Benny yells.  
Crack! Homer.  
Jazz cheers so loud her voice cracks.

**ABC**

Jazz can't believe it. They won? They won.  
She can barely breathe, much less speak.  
"This has been the best game of my life!" Tommy cheers. "But I have to go."  
"What?" Jazz asks.  
"I gotta go see my mom," he says. She nods in understanding.  
As he dashes away, he shakes hands with the man from St. Angus. Her, Wok, and Roll share a grin.  
"Hey, I think Benny has something to say to you guys." Squints' words catch Jazz's attention.  
"There is something over there that belongs to you guys!" Benny points to the trophy - huge, gleaming - and they all run towards it like mice to cheese.  
"It's ours," Wok whispers in her ear.  
"We did it," she whispers back.

**ABC**

School starts up again. Summers pass by. People grow apart.  
Jazz keeps in touch with her boys all through college, but as everyone knows, you can't stay a kid forever. Eventually, communication reduces to a letter here, a phone call here. Sometimes she makes it to a wedding, or the birth of a child.  
She never misses a chance to see Wok and Roll.  
It's the twentieth high school reunion, and she spots them at a table with everyone else. She's fashionably late, as usual. They wave her over.  
For a moment, they're ten best friends in a treehouse. For a moment, she wants to be thirteen again. "Hey stranger," Jazz, Wok, and Roll greet each other.  
"Maybe next time you'll text me more," Jazz teases, nudging Wok.  
"Maybe next time you'll give me your number," he jabs right back.  
"Missed you guys."  
"Yeah."  
She rests against him, and she knows, if someone asks her who her best friend is, it's her grandfather's goldfish.  
That way, she can always keep a part of them all to herself.

**ABC**

**AN: Okay, I really enjoyed writing this, even though it made me a little sad at the end! Since it's my first story I really want to know what you all think. Review? Pwease? It would be totally bofinado.**


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